Flooding Rains
by Ayla Pascal
Summary: "They're her moments and she knows nobody else  especially not James  can ever make Lily feel that way."  Warning: Incest


**Author Notes**: Thank you to aigooism for the beta!

It begins something like this – it's a warm humid summer night, that horrid boy James is out with his friends (and somehow, savagely, Petunia's glad that Lily's left at home by herself, glad that for once, Lily's life isn't rosy perfection), and the pale skin of Lily's back arches beneath Petunia's fingers, but no—

Petunia knows that it began a long time before that.

Maybe the first drops fell when they were children, the first signs of the torrential downpour, the flooding rains. Petunia doesn't remember a time when Lily wasn't around, toddling by on chubby legs, with a smile that could charm sweets out of everybody's pockets. ("She's much smarter than the older one," people would say in hushed tones when they thought Petunia wasn't around. "Very precocious. She'll make something of her life.") Petunia was only four, but already she knew that she was second best to Lily. It wouldn't have been so bad if she didn't agree. Lily was perfect, her huge green eyes shining with love. "Love you," she would burble out as she held out her arms. Petunia would always scoop her up and then rest her cheek on Lily's. It was soft and it was at those times that Petunia knew that they'd be together. Forever.

But then again, maybe it all happened later. Much later.

Maybe it was when Lily breezed into their home after leaving that freak school of hers, with that equally freakish boyfriend on her arm, announcing that she was getting married. She looked so grown-up, so different, and so much older. The swell of bitterness was almost too much for Petunia to bear. It should have been _her_. She was two years older. She was supposed to be the one to do everything first, but Lily was growing up and leaving her behind. While Lily got to go off to her magic school with her magic stick, Petunia was left with the dank taste of reality in her throat, of waitressing, of bills, of not being able to make ends meet.

"Petunia?"

She's suddenly dragged back into the present. Lily's spread-eagled on the bed, her hair tangled and her nipples erect in the candlelight. Petunia's hand jerks involuntarily as she feels the irrational urge to knock the candles to the ground. They're just another reminder of the freak ways Lily's picked up. Reaching over, Petunia brushes the tips of her fingers over Lily's nipples and watches as Lily gasps.

"Damn it," Lily pants. "Quit teasing."

Petunia smiles slightly. Sometimes, she wonders if this is the only control she has left. The ability to see her sister, her perfect sister, gasping and begging for release. She leans down and takes a long, savouring lick. It is sweetness and salt mingled together with the special taste that's pure Lily.

"My dear sister," Petunia murmurs as she feels Lily squirm. "I've only just started."

Lily makes little shuddering moans when she comes and Petunia treasures those moments, hoards them up and locks them away. They're her moments and she knows nobody else (_especially_ not Potter) can ever make Lily feel that way.

* * *

><p>Afterwards, there's silence. There's always silence between them nowadays. (Except when Lily murmurs, "James will be home soon." But that seems almost worse.) It's a stiff silence of offended proprietary. It's during those silences that Petunia always notices the pictures around the house, the little reminders of perfect domestic bliss. It's like the eyes of the photos are watching her, judging her, and she always wonders why Lily doesn't put them face down during these nights.<p>

Lily clears her throat.

"I know." There's a bitter twist in Petunia's words. She can't stay. She can never stay. "James, right?" She glances over at the clock. "It's past midnight. He's out late."

"He's a good husband," Lily says softly.

Petunia snorts. "I never said he wasn't." She tilts her head to one side. "I'm sure he is a good husband. Just like you're a good wife."

Lily's face colours and for a second, she almost looks like a child again. "Times are hard," she says after a pause. She reaches up to tuck a stray hair behind her ear. "You don't understand my world. There's a war –"

"You're right," Petunia interrupts. She doesn't want to hear about Lily's new world that rejected her. She doesn't want to know about the world of magic, of elves, of goblins, and of problems that can be brushed away by a simple wave of a wand. It's a world of no consequences if broken plates can be fixed so easily. "I don't understand your world and I don't want to understand."

There's a glitter of something in Lily's eyes. Desperation, perhaps. Petunia can't tell. "The war's getting worse."

"I said that I don't want to hear about it," Petunia says icily. What sort of war could the freaks have anyway? They could scare each other to death, but it wouldn't be a _real_war. Real wars happened with guns and tanks and bombs. Not with magic. "You'll grow up eventually and realise that you can't hide with your freakish friends forever."

Lily just shakes her head.

Petunia almost expects a response, any response; Lily just sits there, staring at the wall and twirling a lock of hair between her fingers. Her fingers are almost mesmerising as she twists and twists the hair.

Pursing her lips, Petunia stands up. It's time for her to leave. She can't stand these lingering minutes after the pleasure. They're painful reminders of everything she doesn't have. "You keep your illusions," she says harshly. "Just know that you can't run away from the real world forever. You can't hide in your magical fairy tale for the rest of your life." She gathers up her bag and walks towards the bedroom door. At the door, Petunia hesitates, and for a fraction of a second, she turns back.

The look on Lily's face – Petunia's never seen anything like it. It's like Lily's falling, drowning, and briefly, Petunia wonders if it had anything to do with her. She wants to reach out a hand to help, but then Lily opens her mouth.

"It's not a fairy tale." Lily's voice is almost inaudible. "Not anymore."

The moment's broken.

Petunia snorts. "Until next time," she says and lets the door slam behind her.

-fin


End file.
